


If You Were a Flower, You'd Be a DAMNdelion

by sentientstars



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Body Modification, Companionable Snark, First Meetings, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Piercings, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tattoos, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentientstars/pseuds/sentientstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a combined flower shop & soulmate au. This features the type of soulmates which have the first sentence their soulmate will say to them tattooed somewhere on their body.</p><p>|| Worst of all, though, he wasn’t even the <i>slightest bit </i> unattractive, which pushed the meter of Akaashi’s annoyance the last bit up to sound the bell of “I can’t keep quiet anymore”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Were a Flower, You'd Be a DAMNdelion

          Akaashi sighed as he ducked into the humid floral shop and effectively _out_ of the pouring rain, tapping his shoes gently on the metal door frame, then rubbing them into the welcome mat. He shivered, cursing to himself, feeling uncomfortably cold and damp all over, despite how appropriately dressed he was for the weather. It had looked like rain when he’d left home, and it was the end of winter, so he’d dressed warmly, but he hadn’t bothered to bring an umbrella. It would have been too bothersome to carry around if it didn’t end up raining after all-- the weather was temperamental like that. He had figured that if the rain picked up while he was out, he could simply wait it out somewhere for a bit, a plan he was now setting into motion. That plan, however, had foreseen a much _drier_ Akaashi. He hadn’t expected the sky to simply break open like a levee, releasing a flood down onto him almost instantly. Spring had been creeping closer day by day, but still hadn’t quite _sprung_ , so episodes of the miserable, freezing winter rain continued mercilessly. He almost wished it had been colder so that the rain would have been snow instead. It would have been colder that way, but he definitely would have ended up more dry. He pulled down his hood and adjusted his scarf, grateful at least that the rain was now battering violently against the glass door instead of _him_. No sense complaining about it, though. It was what it was.

          Feeling comfortably adjusted enough to meander further inside, he shoved his hands into his pockets and started down the aisle immediately in front of him. It was a floristry, no doubt about that. The shop itself was small and noticeably cramped, but not altogether innavigable. It looked to be considerably old, too, now that he was visually taking in the infrastructure. There was hardly enough room on the shelves to safely house everything that had been situated upon them; the edges of some pots peaked out precariously over the edges of the shelves, even the ones which reached above his head. He felt a passing concern for the safety of customers, such as himself, who ran the risk of being accidentally brained by an enormous clay pot, should someone accidentally disturb the column. He turned his eyes forward again and saw the main counter clearly in view, fixed with a cash register and its own share of miniature potted flora littered about. It appeared, however, to lack an employee behind it.

          He paused at the front of the counter, turning his head in every direction to take in the greenery around him, which extended in many places to the ceiling. For a moment he considered that this might be what it was like in a jungle. The wood floor below him was slick from the humidity caused by the rain and before long he noticed that he’d actually warmed up quite nicely, despite still feeling damp. He’d been so captivated by his surroundings, fascinated by the overhanging vines and potted plants fixed from hooks on the ceiling, that he wouldn’t have noticed the employee come out from the back room if it weren’t for the tremendous crash that immediately preceded it.

          He jumped in alarm, cursing himself internally. No one had been there to bare witness to his jolt, however, so his momentary humiliation transpired needlessly; the employee had certainly been much too absorbed in their endeavor to notice. Akaashi’s attention was brought to the opening door on the far right of the room behind the counter and the figure struggling to emerge from it. Akaashi himself wasn’t small in stature by any means, but he observed that the employee was a tall young man who appeared to be attempting to transport a great deal more boxes than was reasonable to carry at one time. A sadistic grin split across his face, but he quickly neutralized it, more out of civility than guilt. His subdued fascination switched from the plants to the stranger who was laboring to move only a few meters to the opposite side of the room.

          The lone employee of the floristry, effectively the shopkeeper, stocker, and manager, as well as the owner, was named Kuroo. He made almost no noise as he strained to carry the four large boxes of soil to the counter’s opposite corner, but it was obvious that it wasn’t easy going. To Akaashi’s _very_ mild impression, though, he did manage to successfully transport the boxes, and righted himself, revealing his full appearance at last. Akaashi presumed the employee was roughly his own age, though as he had previously observed, a little taller, and presently wore an expression of exorbitant pride-- his wide, genuine smile directed at no one but himself-- and had placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head back to admire his work. Akaashi narrowed his eyes, repulsion at the blatant display of conceit swirling dangerously in his stomach, his previously assessed sliver of an impression nullified in an instant. He had intended to say "hello", but decided it better to grit his teeth until his annoyance subsided-- for the employees sake, lest he say something less appropriate.

          Kuroo finally tore his eyes away from his work, but it was with such a sense of reluctancy that it made Akaashi’s stomach lurch. The employee turned his head slowly now to fixate on Akaashi, seeming now somewhat willing to acknowledge that he had a customer, and his smile lessened slightly, but persisted. Now able to look the stranger fully in the face, Akaashi was able to immediately identify more than half a dozen piercings and a dark tattoo which crept up the employee’s neck from the collar of his shirt as well as snaked down both of his arms from the sleeves. His head appeared to be shaved in some parts, but that which remained was fixed upward, jutting out wildly in every direction, with the exception of his fringe, which fell heavily down over his right cheek, almost completely obscuring his right eye. Aside from that, he wore only a dark green apron with the shop’s name embellished across the chest, and that was all Akaashi could see over the counter. Aside from the apron, he looked entirely like he belonged in some third-rate high school grunge band that would never see the light of a formal performance, not at all in a floristry. He was absolutely out of his element, which just incited Akaashi’s irritation further. Worst of all, though, he wasn’t even the _slightest bit_ unattractive, which pushed the meter of Akaashi’s annoyance the last bit up to sound the bell of “I can’t keep quiet anymore”.

          Kuroo took a few steps forward towards the counter, maintaining eye contact with his new customer. He wondered briefly how long the young man had been standing there, as he’d spent an excessive amount of time trying to transport the soil. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was keenly aware that he could have easily completed the task at least four times as quickly if he’d just done two boxes at a time-- but that wasn’t any fun. Clearing his mind of the extraneous details, he intended to say something like, “Welcome! How may I help you?” as employees are wont to do, but now that he was really paying attention, the customer that stood before him was wearing such an intense expression of utter disinterest that he hesitated to say anything at all. He wondered incredulously for a moment if he would really be able to help anyone who had such a dead look in their eyes, even if he _did_ ask.

          Akaashi wasn’t a mean spirited person by any means, but he had no trouble being sarcastic to people he characterized as egotistical jackasses, and the man in front of him absolutely qualified as such. The effort he was exerting to keep his expression utterly neutral and disinterested was incredible. The employees unwavering smile was infuriating-- and why wasn’t he saying anything? He felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up against his jacket collar; his fingers twitched in his pockets, the corners of his lips aching to draw back into a sneer. He blinked once, slowly, then jerked his head up slightly, intending to gesture to the stranger’s hair. He wasn’t about to put forth the energy to take his hands out of his pockets and gesture with his hands. The nod was sufficient. 

          “D’you wake up like that?”

          In an instant that felt one hundred times shorter than a second, Kuroo’s entire body froze. He felt an absolute stillness that he later would swear reached down to the molecular level. For several moments he wasn’t aware of himself enough to even breathe. If the young man before him had said absolutely _anything_ else, anything at all, he might have felt insulted-- might have furrowed his eyebrows and physically withdrawn, might have marveled at how rude this customer was, having turned an insult about his hair style being the equivalent of bed head-- which was not unfair, in reality, as that’s exactly what it was-- into a mocking question that was not really meant to be answered, might have wished he wasn’t at work so he could punch the guy in front of him square in the face without worry of security cameras capturing the event-- but the boy had not said anything else, it was indisputable-- he had clearly said, albeit lazily, _“did you wake up like that?”_.

          Kuroo knew he couldn’t stay silent for much longer unless he wanted to give the boy in front of him the victory of needlessly crushing his spirit, which he was not at all about to do, but he couldn’t help lingering. For twelve long years, since the day of his thirteenth birthday, he’d stared down at the inside of his right thigh in utter despondence and offense, reading the sentence over and over, feeling absolutely unlucky, wondering exasperatedly aloud to his parents and friends how he would _ever_ be able to hear that sentence from anyone without it being what he eloquently labeled _“rude as hell”_. How could someone who was destined to be his soulmate say something so insulting to him right off the bat, without even knowing him? How could he ever be expected to love somebody who was that unbearable already? All the same, there it was, uttered at last, the first sentence his soulmate would ever say to him before their supposed long and happy life together, and it had been _precisely_ as barbaric as he’d always imagined it.

          In another instant, however, a blissful thought dawned on him-- his soulmate’s sentence had been said, but his was still floating around somewhere in the obscurity of another dimension. He was the only one between the two of them that knew the reality of the situation. He felt nearly sick with satisfaction, always having hoped he’d be the one to find out first-- and in this moment it was perfect, because even though his sentence was already chosen for him by fate, he hadn’t realized what it was yet, so he indulged in the idea of free will for a moment, imagining that he could say _anything at all_ and whatever he decided to say would be written on this stranger’s body forever. His lips twitched just slightly, widening his smile, as he considered saying something truly sarcastic, like _“wait, check your face! I just found your nose in my business!!”_ , but he decided that despite the stranger’s rudeness, not even he was cruel enough to assign such a phrase. Curiosity quickly set in, though-- he tried to imagine the shape of the body that stood before him as it existed underneath the three layers of clothes, wondering which of the million things he was presently considering saying was the sentence written there-- and where?

          Meanwhile, Akaashi felt nothing short of ecstasy when the stranger’s expression did not change whatsoever. He hadn’t even flinched. Akaashi could only imagine the level of self-control this man must have to have put up such a solid front of being unfazed after receiving such an unsolicited insult from an absolute stranger. Akaashi fought back a wicked laugh, watching as the employee, who maintained the same degree of smile as he had when he’d first turned his head, slid his forearms languidly over the counter, pushed one of his arms up at the elbow to rest his chin in his hand, and sat his chest against the counter top. His lip curled just slightly on one side and his eyes were fixed wide on Akaashi’s; his demeanor reminded Akaashi of an extremely content cat shortly after having destroyed something intentionally. Akaashi gazed on in wonder, feeling himself internally almost begging to know what his reply would be, sure that the employee’s comeback must be pretty good if he could afford to look so smug.

          “Are you always so polite?”

          Instantaneously, Akaashi was thunderstruck with clarity, the bitter response from the florist’s mouth burning hot on his skin just under his right clavicle. The pompous grin now made perfect sense. He kicked himself internally; the man had said his imminent phrase in such a nauseatingly honey-thick tone; he imagined the script on his chest seeping down into his flesh and coming to rest as a scar on his bones. Even though he’d frequently imagined how this moment might transpire for the past eleven years, knowing full well all the while that it wasn’t going to be pleasant, he hadn’t really expected to be very affected by it. Now that it had happened, though, his opinion had changed a bit-- he had always known _what _was coming, true, but he had never known _how_ it would come, and that was making all the difference. He decided he didn’t hate it, though-- didn’t hate how it had happened, didn’t hate the man standing in front of him, and after all was said and done, he even felt a small affection for the phrase on his chest begin to bloom in his heart.__

__He realized now that his previous sentence must be the one that was inscribed on the stranger before him and he felt better, knowing that it had been just as bad as the one that sat on his own skin. Now that he was thinking about it, it wouldn’t have been fair if his destined phrase to someone else had been very kind while the one on his chest was so coarse. The fact that it had been equally abrasive numbed most of the previous contempt he had built up for it. They’d each delivered their fatal blow and now it was time for each of them to rise up from the ashes into their new positions. They were on even ground. They might both be assholes, he reckoned, but they were _equal_ assholes. He was ready._ _

__Without missing a beat or changing his expression overall, Akaashi quirked an eyebrow._ _

__“Polite?” he started, sounding a little inquisitive, but still impartial, “I’m fucking _delightful_. Seriously, though, it’s two in the afternoon and you look like a hot mess. Where are the jonquils?”_ _

__Kuroo felt like he’d been flattened by a steamroller made out of this man’s vacant expression. He’d always said it, to anyone and everyone who would listen, he’d _known_ that his soulmate was going to be utterly insufferable, but there was no joy in being right about it now. The venom from the other boy’s words coursing just under his skin was beginning to make him weak. Maintaining a smile at this point was almost masochistic, but he wasn’t ready to give up yet. His heart was thundering hard, making his chest ache, and for a moment, he didn’t understand why he was reacting so much. He wondered briefly, but then figured, _maybe that’s the affect your soulmate has on you_. Then he nearly laughed-- that was it. Even though the guy in front of him was _ice cold_ \-- and Kuroo could feel that in his soul-- he felt strangely confident that he’d stirred up something in him, too. Behind this guy’s impassive glare, maybe he was excited, maybe he said these things because he was looking forward to Kuroo fighting back. Maybe that was in their design, how their union was meant to operate-- codominance. Kuroo felt like maybe fate really understood him after all. After all the time he’d spent wondering how he would ever be able to get along with his soulmate, he now couldn’t really see how he could be meant for anyone else. He felt like he was on the tips of his toes, the edge of his seat-- more alive than he’d ever felt, and he was determined to make sure that his “customer” felt it, too._ _

__“Ah!” he started, his pitch far happier than could be genuine. He slowly withdrew from the countertop to stand back up at his full height, “Better a “hot” mess than an ugly one,”_ _

__Akaashi’s eyebrow twitched hard involuntarily and he could see that Kuroo had noticed and was taking in a great deal of pleasure from it. Akaashi could clearly tell from his bombastic expression that he was the type of person to make egotistical comments specifically to the chagrin of everyone around him and that made Akaashi even more frustrated with himself for being genuinely vexed by it. He was playing right into the other man’s hands and didn’t know how to stop yet, but he already found himself forming a new strategy and thinking of new incinerating things to say. He wasn’t ready to surrender; he would keep supplying his brutally honest opinions until he could learn how to completely neutralize the other man’s boorish comebacks, at least until he was given a reason for his opinions to change. A nagging suspicion at the back of his mind gave him the feeling that they would, given enough time, and being proven wrong about him sounded like it would be much more satisfying in the end anyway._ _

__The florist extracted himself from behind the counter at a small waist-height door panel at the far right end and gently slid past between Akaashi and the shelving row behind him. He made sure to make eye contact with Akaashi again before turning his head, his smile never fading,_ _

__“Right this way.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Please view the corresponding tumblr post that goes along with this fic [here](http://hqrarepairs.tumblr.com/post/140294103081/hey-tony-kuuuroo-im-your-gift-giver-for-the) to view the short comic I created for it as well! Thank you!!
> 
> Jonquils (the flowers Akaashi asks for) are a type of poisonous yellow daffodil that symbolize "please return my affection" or requited love. Their blossoms have six petals-- Kuroo's #1 + Akaashi's #5. ;) Just a little extra gay thrown in for all you botanist nerds out there keeping track.
> 
> This is for Tony / kuuuroo @ tumblr for the haikyuu!! rare pair exchange! The pairing I chose from your list was Akaashi / Kuroo & I chose to combine both the "flower shop au" and "soulmate au" prompt suggestions! I had such a blast writing this, but I hope it's not too sarcastic-banter-y for your liking! I think I might have made Akaashi a little too harsh. ;; This was my first time writing both Akaashi and Kuroo, though, so please forgive any OOC-ness. I will work hard to do better next time! Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to create this, I really hope you enjoy it!! Have a wonderful day!!
> 
> Special thanks, love, and appreciation to @ImWithEnjolras for being my lovely, encouraging beta! <3
> 
> Please feel free to hmu @hqrarepairs via twitter or tumblr if you'd like. :)


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